


i want to go home

by ViolentVioletEye



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Child Abuse, Dave | Technoblade and Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit are Siblings, Dissociation, Emperor - Freeform, Evil Jschlatt, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Like I'm not fucking kidding, Mentioned Jschlatt (Video Blogging RPF), Phil is also their brother, Royalty, The End, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit Friendship, Toby Smith | Tubbo and TommyInnit Run Away, TommyInnit Angst (Video Blogging RPF), Villain Jschlatt (Video Blogging RPF), no dadza, real bad, shits bad guys, sorry :(
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:15:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27597383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ViolentVioletEye/pseuds/ViolentVioletEye
Summary: Tommy grabs Tubbo after the festival and runs, runs from Wilbur and Schlatt's lapdogs, while trying to keep his best friend alive. While trying to find a safe place, they stubble across an End portal different from the usual. They have no choice, and they take a leap.Tommy just wants to go home.
Relationships: Jschlatt & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Comments: 132
Kudos: 696





	i want to go home

**Author's Note:**

> BIG TW WARNINGS FOR CHILD ABUSE, MANIPULATION, BEATINGS, AND DISSOCIATION DISORDER. PLEASE STAY SAFE LOVELIES. THIS IS ROUGH.
> 
> Also, it should be noted, before I mixed up dissociation and DID. Originally I was just gonna roll with it, but the more research I did, the more overwhelmed I kinda felt and I don't really think I'm ready to portray something so serious and valid to so many people at the risk of getting it wrong and upsetting people or harming the reputation of DID. So, thats on me, I fucked up in the tagging and was confused on what it was actually called. Thank you to the person in the comments who pointed it out to me and made me realized I fucked up (they were nice!)
> 
> SO, Tommy is going to dissociate throughout this story, and you see moments where he actually does; but he does not have DID, and he is not going to have multiple personalities. I hope that clears up any confusion.
> 
> Ok, enough rambling, lets get to the traumatized boys.

_ I want to go home. _

"Do I need to remind you, Tommy?" Wilbur's voice was cold. It was a hiss, like a snake readying itself for its strike. Tommy stared forward, staring at nothing, mouth pressed in a thin line. He was still and calm on the outside, but inside, his insides were shaking and his palms were clammy.

_ I want to go home. _

"Do I need to remind you of what I do to traitors?" Wilbur's tone told him that he demanded an answer. This wasn't a rhetorical question. Tommy had a feeling he would get punished for answering anyway. But he'd get punished if he didn't, and that would be worse. Wilbur hated it when he wouldn't answer him, or if he felt like he was mumbling.

_ Mumbling doesn't make a man,  _ he would sneer, while making Tommy repeat what he was saying until his throat was hoarse.

_ I want to go home. _

“Yes, Wilbur.”

_ “Don’t,”  _ Wilbur hissed, voice low and dark, “interrupt me while I’m speaking.” His hand twitched and Tommy stiffened even more. Wilbur sneered.

_ I want _

“I don’t kill traitors. I make them suffer. I make them regret ever even thinking about betraying me. I keep them alive so they spend the rest of their miserable, pathetic lives in  _ agony.  _ You don’t want that, do you, Tommy?”

_ to go _

“I already do,” Tommy spat before he could stop himself, and he was punched so hard he couldn’t hear anything out of that ear for a few days after. Wilbur’s foot collided with his stomach and he curled up, bile already rising in his throat as his eyes watered from the pain. He was already fading, leaving his mind and going to a different place, where his brother was kind, and he and Tubbo were treated like the children that they were. The flowers smelled wonder, the bees buzzed, and Tubbo laid beside him in the soft grass as they laughed and laughed.

Tommy felt like an intruder in the ravine that he had been trying to make into home. His brother breathed down his neck constantly, studying every move he made like he was  _ trying  _ to find an alternative motive. And he would always find something wrong. He would always find  _ something. _

_ Home. _

After the festival, they ran.

Well, Tommy ran. He clutched Tubbo’s body in his arms as he sprinted out of the festival as it all went to hell, his own brother massacring every person in the festival without even trying. He could hear him laughing behind him, could hear Wilbur cackling like a madman.  _ They fit each other well, _ Tommy thought bitterly as his best friend’s blood coated the front of his shirt.  _ They don’t need me. _

_ They never did. _

Tommy couldn’t get the smell of the fireworks out of his nose in the coming weeks. As he ran, stopping only at night to dig a hole and lay his friend out on a strip of wool he got after killing some sheep on the way—he didn’t have what he needed to make a bed, or a potion, he didn’t have  _ anything  _ to help his friend, his best friend—so he could rest while Tommy stood guard. Phantoms followed their every move and often gave away their position, but Tommy couldn’t settle. Not when Wilbur, the fucking madman, was chasing right after him. Some days he would be so far away they wouldn’t hear or see him in days, and just when they would think they had lost him, he would appear. With the ratty trench coat that stunk of gunpowder, with a crazed grin and heavy circles under his eyes, psychotic laughter falling past chapped lips as he screamed that they were traitors and cowards and they needed to be punished.

For whatever they did, whatever sins their young bodies must have commited, Tommy felt as though they had atoned for them a long time ago. Tommy had never been a man of Notch, but he felt like if he really did care, then he had never cared about Tommy or Tubbo. He felt cursed. He felt abandoned. All he had was Tubbo, who couldn’t walk, who drifted in and out of consciousness so much he could barely tell the difference between reality and his fever dreams. Tommy couldn’t imagine the dreams his friend had. He would cry out, scream and thrash in his sleep, splitting open the wound in his chest again and again. Tommy wasn’t a medic, and even then he sure as hell didn’t have the proper materials.

Two days into this chase, Tubbo got a fever. Three days later, Tommy was chased out of a healer’s house in a small, backwater town that knew nothing of them or L’Manberg. Tucked protectively in his arms and held in his coat were herbs, bandages, cream, everything Tommy thought looked important to their situation. He grabbed Tubbo from the tree he had hidden him in and kept running, running, until the sun had dipped below the sky and he hid them in a cove that was half submerged in water. It was there he worked on his friend, muffling his screams and cries as his own tears streamed down his cheeks. He did what he could. He was able to actually stitch the wound shut as he cleaned it, cleaned out all of the gunpowder and drained any pus—he threw up, twice, he was past trying to save his pride—that had gathered there during the day. The smell of firework only got worse after that, but when all was said and done and the wound had been stitched and wrapped, and Tubbo had been fed the herbs raw he didn’t look like he was on death’s door. He wished he had a potion of healing, of regeneration, of  _ anything.  _ If he had a potion, Tubbo would be healed in no time.

He couldn’t let Tubbo die. He would respawn, sure, but the respawn process was so goddamn painful. They had both felt it too many times. Tommy would rather heal from broken ribs then have his code ripped apart and then shoved back together again. And even when Tubbo was done, he would just be back in Manberg, under the rule of the man that had ordered his execution in the first place. Tommy couldn’t save him if he was trapped there. While the festival had been hell in a handbasket, while Tubbo screamed and cried from the nightmares he was plagued with, and Tommy could still smell the gunpowder from the fireworks, he was almost thankful for the carnage.

How fucked was that? To be glad that something that had ruined his best friend from the inside and out had happened, because it gave them a window of opportunity to escape something horrible?

That was to say if they could escape. It seemed like with every turn Tommy led them on, Wilbur was right there. At some point they were going to catch up on him. At some point, Tommy would have to face him. But he didn’t want to. The mere thought of going against his brother was horrifying. And what if he had reinforcements that he was hiding? What if Techno was  _ right behind him? _

And then Schlatt’s people started chasing them. He knew it was them from the way Tubbo screamed when they first saw them. He knew it was them because of the symbol on their uniforms and their flag. A ram’s head, the horns curled just like Schlatt’s, with a rising blood red sun right behind it. It made Tommy feel sick. It haunted Tubbo’s dreams, to the point where Tubbo had to gag his own friend just so he wouldn’t give them away when they were right outside their hovel.

The days bleed together as Tommy keeps them moving, always. He killed animals on the way and stole food from farms as they passed through small towns. The only baths they got was when they had no choice but to cross a body of river to put some more distance between them. It was mid-summer when they ran, but the fact that it was beginning to get chilly as the days went by was telling to Tommy. How much time had passed? It seemed like days flew by without letting him grasp them, as if he was dissociating right there on the ravine floor while Wilbur broke his bones and made him bleed until he finally put him out of misery and sent him through the respawn process.

At some point, Tubbo could start moving by himself. He could walk, even jog, but Tommy had to pick him up when they had to sprint when hell was right at their heels, screaming accusations that couldn’t stick. He had to carry Tubbo when Schlatt’s soldiers were catching up, because the boy locked up and could only tremble when he saw them coming for them. Tommy didn’t know what went through his best friend’s mind during that time. He wasn’t sure he wanted to. He didn’t want Tommy to know what plagued his mind. He didn’t sleep just to guard them.

They were being cornered. Wilbur was in one direction, Schlatt’s soldiers were in the other. Above ground isn’t safe anymore. So what did Tommy do, as he saw an ocean to their left, a thick forest at their front, when he knew Wilbur was coming from their right while Schlatt’s soldiers came from behind? When he clutched a shaking, sobbing Tubbo, who had already conceded and was ready for them to be caught and killed? What did he do, when he refused to go down like this, like a caged animal with his brother— _ his abuser, the true traitor, the madman that had broken his bones and bruised him more times then Tommy would admit— _ when the above wasn’t safe?

He went below. He dug. He placed Tubbo on his feet, shoved a half broken diamond pickaxe into his hands, and told him to  _ dig.  _ And so they did. They dug and dug, deeper and deeper, blocking it up as they went. They fell into a cave that twisted left and right and took every random direction they could, trying desperately to lose their pursuers and only succeeding for a few minutes at a time. Tommy thought about the gunpowder in his pack, the deadly dust he had gotten from creepers he had killed while they had been running and traveling all of these months. He had some sand and a flint and steel that was barely hanging on. He could make some TNT. He could find an exit, light the fuse and run, never look back as it blew and trapped collapsed the cave on them—

No.

He thought of the gunpowder that had infected the air when Techno fired that firework into his best friend’s chest. He thought about the explosions that had rocked the ground when Tommy was sprinting away with Tubbo dying in his arms. He thought of how his brother always reeked of tnt and redstone, how he’d always cackle when he lit a fuse.

He would not be him. He refused.

They found the stonebrick when Tommy had mined some iron ore, thinking he might need a new sword with how this was going. They only looked at each other for a moment before they broke past the stone brick and put the iron ore back, and then the stone bricks. There, they found themselves in a small room, with an end portal right in front of them.

Only, it was vertical. And there was no lava behind it. Every slot had an ender eye and it was on, making its strange noises, an endless void of stars that twinkled back at them. The room was illuminated by redstone lamps, and the floor and walls were made of stone brick. They didn’t say anything, sitting by each other, clutching onto each other’s hands as they trembled there on the floor. They could hear their pursuers, looking in every nook and cranny. Tommy knew they couldn’t stay here. They were sitting ducks. He looked back at the End portal and ignored how it was nothing like he had ever seen, thinking of how they could go through and stay in the End for a bit. He had some food. They could last a few days there. They could bury themselves in the endstone. There would be no dragon, it had been defeated shortly after this world began. He remembered what it was like. He remembered being so excited, so joyful, so bright eyed and happy then. It was before the drugs. It was before l’Manberg. It was before Manberg. It was before it all went to hell and Tommy and Tubbo suddenly had to stop being kids.

They wouldn’t be able to stay in the End forever. When they would jump through the portal, they would appear in their respective hells. But they couldn’t keep going like this. Maybe, just maybe, everyone would still think that they were still out there, and they would be fruitlessly hunting, while Tommy and Tubbo met up and sprinted to the original spawn to get the fuck out of this hellhole. It was their one chance, Tommy realized, to actually leave this place and maybe live some sort of a normal life in another server. Hell, Tommy would get enough emeralds so they could have their own peaceful server, where there would be no rules, no Presidents and Emperors.

He grabbed Tubbo’s hand and pulled them towards the portal. Tubbo whispered to him frantically, fearfully, telling him that this portal wasn’t normal, what are you thinking, we can just hide here, and Tommy didn’t have the energy or the courage to tell Tubbo his plan yet. So he pressed on, pulled Tubbo in front of him, and then shoved them both through the portal.

_ Phil’s heavy, warm wings were wrapped around him. He was curled up beside his leg, while Phil ran his fingers through his blond hair. He was humming softly, sharing his warmth. And for a moment, Tommy felt safe. In his older brother’s wings, he knew nothing would happen to him. _

_ “-n’t! Please! He’s already so hurt!” _

_ And then it all slipped away, an _ d he opened his eyes to a dark place, cold, barren ground underneath his palms. He could hear Tubbo’s voice, crying out for him, begging someone to not hurt Tommy. His heart began to pound as Tommy’s mind immediately went to their purserers, and he shoved himself up, spinning head be damned. He lifted his head, reaching for his sword, only to find it gone and a pointed tip inches from his face.

It was a sword, a diamond sword. It wasn’t his, his had been iron; he had lost his original sword in the festival and had crafted the iron one on the way there. His eyes followed the gleaming diamond blade, and settled on the person holding it. His heart plummeted. A figure stood there, in imposing black armor that was spikey on the shoulders and the helmet. Their helmet hid their face, but he could see burning purple eyes in the slit. They narrowed when their gazes met, and Tommy swallowed.

He turned his head and threw up, body shaking, chills grabbing hold as he hunched over himself. He had never done well with portal hopping. He always felt nausea afterward, and it probably didn’t help that he couldn’t remember the last time he had slept or had a proper meal. He felt weak, cornered, and clammy.

“Tommy!” Tubbo. Fuck, right. Tommy lifted his head, struggling to hold his own weight, while he forced his eyes open. There were others in the same armor, with gleaming diamond swords. He found it strange that none of them were enchanted. With such a fancy gitup, you’d think they would have the experience to. But he forgot about all of that when he saw Tubbo, being held back from Tommy by a firm hand wrapped around his forearm.

“Tubbo,” he rasped, trying to stand. But then he was reminded of the sword pointed at him when the tip jabbed against his chest. It didn’t break skin, but Tommy still hissed and froze right where he stood, crouched from where he had been trying to stand. He looked at the warrior holding him at swordpoint, heart pounding in his chest. “He needs me,” he rasped out. His throat ached and he wondered when was the last time he had water. “He needs me, he’s my best friend, you can’t separate us.” He was sure he sounded like a madman, but he knew he was right. All of their friends knew the biggest rule when it came to Tubbo and Tommy.

_ Don’t separate me from my best friend. _

Yet they had done it anyway.

“Age.”

The warrior’s voice was harsh, it grated on Tommy’s ears and made him grit his teeth so hard they ached. It was weighed down heavily by an accent, so much so Tommy had to fight to understand what that single word was. Or maybe it was just the blood rushing through his head, the pain in his shoulder from where Wilbur had gotten a shot on him earlier that week. He had yanked the crossbow bolt out and continued running, haphazardly wrapping gauze around it under his shirt as he promised to take care of it properly later. He hadn’t yet. It throbbed and he remembered it for the first time in days.

_ “Age.”  _ The warrior repeated, sounding displeased about it. Tommy said nothing, mouth clamped shut, heart pounding in his chest.

“Sixteen!” Tubbo practically screamed, tone dripping with desperation. Tommy tried not to be too angry at him. “We both are! We’re sixteen, and we’re running from these people who want us dead! We’ve been running for months! We just want to be safe!” Tubbo was sobbing, and Tommy ached to run to him, to hug him tight and shield him from the world. “We j...just want to be  _ s...safe…!” _

The warrior stared at Tommy, eyes passive behind his helmet. Tommy wondered if he would still cut them down where they stood, if they didn’t care that they would be sending them back to some sort of fresh hell, when the sword wasn’t pointed at his chest anymore. The warrior reached down and grabbed Tommy by his forearm and drug him to his feet, pushing him towards Tubbo. Tommy didn’t need to be told twice. As he sprinted towards Tubbo, the warrior from before nodded to the one holding Tubbo back, and they released the young boy so he could run to meet Tommy in the middle. They hugged onto each other, Tubbo sobbing into his chest while Tommy gripped him so tight he threatened to break bones but neither of them were willing to let go.

_ “∴ᒷ リᒷᒷ↸ ℸ ̣ 𝙹 ℸ ̣ ᔑꖌᒷ ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷᒲ ℸ ̣ 𝙹 ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷ ᒷᒲ!¡ᒷ∷𝙹∷.” _

Tommy’s eyes flew open and Tubbo went deadly still in his arms. Both boys were suddenly aware of how they had gotten in this position in the first place. They had gone through an End portal that had been lit without any lava, that had been vertical in a one-room stronghold. An End portal that already had eyes filling every slot. A quick glance around told him that they were in the End. The barren ground under their feet and the starry sky above them was unmistakable.

But who were these people? Where were the pillars that had held the end crystals before they were destroyed and the dragon was killed? Where was the portal in the very center, surrounded by bedrock?

_ “ʖ∷ᒷᔑꖌ ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷ !¡𝙹∷ℸ ̣ ᔑꖎ.” _

There was some shuffling behind them, and Tommy turned his gaze just in time to see one of the silent warriors lift his foot and  _ slam  _ it into the side of the portal. The block shifted under the mere force, out of place, and then fell to the floor with a loud bang as the portal shut. It collapsed shortly after, falling to remains that clattered and banged against each other as they did. Tubbo clung to Tommy tighter, clutching onto the back of Tommy’s shoulder with his right hand as they looked on with wide eyes.

That gibberish was familiar, though neither could begin to understand it. They had heard it before, from creatures that stalked day and night, stealing all types of blocks even though they didn’t even have any fingers. Not that Tommy had ever gotten close enough to look. He just knew from research, from stories told by those who had escaped enraged ones by the skin of their teeth.

“Walk,” the first warrior, the same one that had had Tommy at swordpoint just minutes ago, rumbled in that accent-heavy voice. Tubbo and Tommy stared at him, faces pale, eyes wide, not budging an inch. Then Tubbo cried out as one of the other warriors tapped the handle of their sword against the back of his ankle, and Tommy yanked them away with a weak snarl. It sounded more like a cough, especially with how his throat ached afterward. It had been harmless, what they did, but they were both on edge. They were both starting to wonder what they had gotten themselves into. The portal was closed, and while that meant Wilbur and Schlatt’s soldiers wouldn’t be coming through any time soon, it also meant they wouldn’t be  _ leaving  _ any time soon.

_ “Walk,”  _ the first warrior growled, and Tommy gripped Tubbo tighter. He glanced around them and realized they had no choice. They were surrounded, his sword was missing, and Tubbo had been stripped of his too. If he had to guess, they must have taken his sword. No way they had lost them through the portal. They were defenseless, they were surrounded, and they were exhausted, starved, and dehydrated. They didn’t stand a chance.

Slowly, they began to walk away from the portal. He refused to let go of Tubbo, and while there was some fumbling at first, they quickly learned how to walk while pressed so close together.    
The warriors followed, and soon, they had them circled. They were in the very center, unable to run, unable to hide, while the first warrior from before walked behind them, keeping them there while the warrior that had been holding Tubbo back walked in the first, leading them along. It was silent, tense, and cold. Tommy’s shoulder throbbed as they walked.

_ We are in the End, _ Tommy realized,  _ at least some form of it. Where are the Endermen? _

The world was barren around them as they walked. Tommy was certain that they were just being walked to their death when suddenly, something rippled through them. Tubbo gasped and Tommy held him tighter, freezing in pain as his body shuddered. Panic seized him. What just happened? What was going on? The warriors around them halted when they did, turning their gazes to them.

“T-Tommy, look!”

Tommy lifted his head and froze.

Around them, there was a jungle. But it wasn’t a kind of jungle that Tommy had ever seen. The bark of the trees were purple, the leaves and winding vines the richest green he had ever seen. The lush grass under their feet was a soft lavender that made Tommy want to roll around in it with Tubbo while they laughed for the first time in months, perhaps even years. He could hear the calls of animals, calls and noises he had never heard before. A bird with three pairs of wings flew above their heads, while a purple snake with little wings on its midsection slithered past one of the guard’s feet. They didn’t even budge, while Tubbo pressed himself into Tommy's side. Tommy’s breath was caught in his throat as he looked around with wide, amazed eyes. He had never seen a place so beautiful, so rich with life.

He looked behind them and saw that there was a large tree truck, right where they had come from. He watched as it rippled and the first warrior stepped through, pausing when they met Tommy’s eyes and saw that everyone had stopped. They didn’t say anything as Tommy and Tubbo stared at him with wide eyes, purple eyes shutting halfway as an emotion in them glowed underneath their helmet. It felt like pity, and it made Tommy’s stomach twist. He was not a boy that should be  _ pitied. _

“Walk,” said the warrior at the front, and she sounded female.

They walked.

When the buildings rose up on the horizon, Tommy thought it was a small village. As they got closer, he started to believe it was a town. Closer, it thought it was a city. Closer still, right when they were on the outskirts, he realized it was a  _ kingdom.  _ Tall walls wrapped around it, protecting it from the outside, and at the very back stood a castle with tall pointy ends to the towers that seemed to reach for the void sky above them. They could hear the bustle in the kingdom as they grew closer, but the moment they passed over the borders, it all seemed to fall utterly still. It was as if every human and animal had sensed their presence and retreated into their homes. The streets were empty, carts abandoned, and they could feel eyes on them as they walked down the marble sidewalks, past the obsidian streets, and the beautiful houses. Tommy had never seen such decorated buildings, with all sorts of blocks that were both expensive and inexpensive. It felt as though Phil’s impressive buildings paled in comparison to these.

Tubbo looked on in wonder, craning his head this and that to peer around their guards to take in every bit of detail that he could, while Tommy looked on with uncertainty. He didn’t relax his grip on Tubbo, even when Tubbo would tug lightly against him to see a building better. His chest felt tight and heavy with anxiety, and all of these looming buildings made him feel small. The castle had to be the tallest building in the entire kingdom, even taller than the empowering cathedral that had stood in the very center, which had been  _ decorated  _ with  _ beacons.  _ It made sense, it was the castle, but it didn’t make Tommy any more prepared or make him hate it any less. The gates to the castle pulled open, and they could see people in the same suit of armor and armed with the same diamond sword everywhere as they walked through. On the walls, on the gate walls, along the walls; and it was then Tommy realized they weren’t warriors. They were  _ guards. _

Oh, Gods. Where were they taking them?

They led them into the castle, with its stone brick walls that were somehow black, their oak floors, and carpet that led down winding hallways. But they took no twists or turns, and instead the guards around them led them down the straight hallway across from the front doors. As they went along, the members of the guard broke away, disappearing down hallways, into rooms. Soon, it was just four guards, one on either side of them and the woman in front and the first warrior in the back. Tommy’s breath was coming quickly, and even when Tubbo pressed his hand against his chest and clutched tightly at his dirty and torn white shirt, he couldn’t catch his breath. He was beginning to feel lightheaded when they went through a door and found themselves in a small entrance room with other people.

They looked like players. Men and women of all ages stood in a line, their eyes turned towards them the moment they walked in. Some were dressed casually, others like farmers, others looked like they belonged in an office. None of them said anything. Some of them seemed surprised, almost apprehensive about their appearance. Others had entirely blank faces as they walked past them, completely bypassing the line that went through two double doors that were pulled open. The guards that were placed on either side of them broke away, leaving them with only two guards as they stayed back in the small room with the line. As they passed through the double doors, Tubbo and Tommy both immediately knew that they were in the throne room.

The walls were still made of black stone brick, the walls still oak, but purple carpet led from the door, up some steps to a curtain that closed off a platform in the back of the room from everyone. The curtain was a rich, wine purple, much like the purple carpet that led up to it. It was laced with gold at the edges. Tommy would bet his life that there was a throne there behind the curtain. There were stained glass windows and each one seemed to tell a story, some with war, others of people building—or rebuilding?—grand buildings. Standing on a small bit of the platform that wasn’t hidden was someone with a lectern in front of them, a book opened on it and a quill in their hand. It looked to be a woman, with long brown hair pinned up in a bun with a purple bow. She was pale like them, and had hazel eyes that seemed to burn into them as they were led to the bottom of the steps by the two guards.

The woman stepped off to the side, and when Tubbo went to follow her by instinct, the first guard from before grabbed his shoulder. Tommy yanked Tubbo behind him, backing them up a few paces as he glared at the guard with a dangerous look. But he just shook his head and walked off to the side, with a one word command.

“Stay.”

They stood there at the bottom of the grand steps, clinging to each other still. Tommy’s shoulder felt almost numb now, and he barely felt his hunger pains. His legs felt weak, but they didn’t visibly shake. Tubbo trembled a tad, but Tommy didn’t blame him. He just held him tightly to his side, trying to hide his weakness from the others, trying to make sure that they wouldn’t be separated. Not again. Never again. The woman behind the lectern cleared her throat and all eyes were taken off Tubbo and Tommy, and instead turned towards her.

“All rise, for the Emperor of the End.”

The curtains were pulled back. Tommy’s face remained blank and stone cold, months of pain and abuse hardening his expressions, while Tubbo’s eyes widened in amazement.

There was no throne. There, revealed by the closing curtains, was a man. He stood tall and proud, back straight and shoulders squared, hands clasped in front of his stomach. The Emperor of the End had pale skin, deep almond shaped eyes that were the darkest brown Tommy had ever seen, high cheekbones, and a sharp nose with a narrow bridge. He had brown hair that looked fluffy to the touch, like how Wilbur’s used to be before he went insane. He wore a circlet, but not really. It floated around his head, not actually touching, the sections not entirely connected as some floated up while others floated down. But they never stayed more than a few inches away from each other, even the gems that floated on their own around the band of silver metal. They were a sapphire blue. Were they sapphires, then? Tommy didn’t know gems.

The Emperor wore white and purple. The shade of purple he wore seemed like true purple, not dark but not quite light at the same time. The white had edges of gray. He wore an overcoat that had long sleeves and a long end, reaching the floor, just barely scraping against it as it shifted in the slight draft the castle had. His shirt was white, his trousers a dark gray, and white gloves covered his hands. You couldn’t see much under the overcoat he wore, as the front covered most of it even when it was unclasped.

“These two young boys were found by patrol led by the General, just a mere hour ago. They came through the East Patrol. They have not given their names, but the smaller one told the General that they’re both sixteen. They claim to be running from people who want them dead. We have shut down the portal, and two guards are watching it and waiting for further orders.” The woman in front of the lectern claimed in a clear, steady voice.

Tommy wondered how she could talk so confidently in front of a powerful leader such as the Emperor that stood above them, looking down at them with those dark eyes. The mere sight of him made Tommy’s throat close up, and his presence made his chest tighten. Tommy’s eyes drifted back to the circlet, and he realized he had missed something very important while he was studying this Emperor. There, protruding from the top of his skull were black, pointed horns, much like a dragon’s, sticking right out of his skull. The ends were sharp, sharper than any sword in this room, and they were pointed towards each other.

Oh, god. What had they gotten into?

“We are awaiting your instruction on how to move forward, Emperor Seto.”

_ I want to go home. _

**Author's Note:**

> SETOSORCERER IN MY 2020 FANFIC? YOU BET YOUR SWEET ASSES. I LOVE THIS PURPLE FUCK.
> 
> This is uhhh, the byproduct of a fever dream (your girl got covid. pretty sure anyway, I couldn't afford the fucking test :)) My desktop fried though, so I wrote, edited, and am currently posting this using my grandma's laptop which is on its last legs. I'll be getting a new computer in a few days, but be prepared for my updates to be slow and unsteady for awhile.
> 
> This AU is basically, what if Tommy and Tubbo ran and fell into Emperor Seto's lap? I have some plans for this, but I'll only continue this if you guys are interested. If I did continue this, we would be seeing some familiar and new faces. (familiar still, i mean like 2012 famous Youtubers, like the era Seto is from)
> 
> I hope you guys liked this. Please let me know if you did, and if you're interested in seeing more. I know a lot of you come from my Schlatt is Tubbo's dad series, but this is (obviously) set in a much different timeline and Schlatt and Wilbur are both BITCHES. Even so, I hope you guys enjoyed :)


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